Cliff Lake Stay-Cation

Spring is a crazy time for both of us, when everything is gearing up and all the kinks are getting worked out.  There's nothing like taking a few days off to clear your mind and restore your sanity (well, what little I had in the first place).  It's incredibly liberating to just throw some stuff in the van and drive out of cell service.  In this case, it was a short excursion south and across the river to Cliff Lake.  

Have van, will travel

 We were followed there by a steady stream of dark, drizzling clouds and a few peals of thunder.  Carl took his fishing pole for a walk by the lake while the dogs and I read a book and kept an eye out for intruders.  There were plenty to keep the dogs busy - somehow a whole contingent of MSU students had picked out our little corner of paradise for a massive end-of-school get-together.  There were frisbees flying and ironic trucker hats by the dozen.  For the most part we really couldn't hear them over the sound of the rain on the roof, and nothing exploded or caught fire that we could tell.  Still, we were plenty happy when they all trickled off and left us with blissful solitude.

Bubba in his happy place

 There's an old road that runs from the camp ground along the lake, offering plenty of opportunities for me to dork out over the newest batch of wildflowers.  If I take enough pictures, maybe one of them will actually capture the beauty of those things.

Shooting Star

Arrowleaf Balsam Root

Checkered Lily

Fairy Orchid

The cooler temperatures didn't temper the enthusiasm of our dogs for water.  In true puppy fashion, Mojo plunged right in after Luna, only to discover that she was all wet and couldn't touch the ground.  Her look of perplexity had us busting a gut.  Lucky for her she's a natural-born swimmer.  I expect she'll be a pro before long.

Fishing for puppies

 Thunderstorms and showers created the perfect atmosphere for a well-deserved nap.

 Carl had the good sense to bring along my kayak.  He tried to take it for a spin, then realized that it wasn't designed for a man-sized man.  He quickly returned to shore and we switched places.

Carl trying out the little blue boat

 Even though it was mid-morning the water was still glassy-calm and crystal-clear.  I could see trout darting away from my shadow, and watched osprey wheeling and feinting overhead.

 At one point I came around a corner and surprised three river otters sitting on the bank.  We stared at each other for a few moments, then they slipped into the water and started heading away.

 That evening we sat in the sun and enjoyed the noise.  Between the osprey and eagles fighting over fish, mergansers flapping madly over the water, fish jumping, insects humming, and trees whispering, it wasn't anywhere near silent - it was much, much better.  After the sun went down we started a fire and made mountain pies, the perfect camping food.  Grilled cheese for dinner, followed by blueberry for dessert.

As we stood around the coals, we looked across the campground and noticed a solitary moose on the hillside.  It was small, probably a yearling, and slowly grazing along in the dusky light.  We watched until it disappeared beyond the rise and the last of the light faded.

May-hem

The month of May has flown by in an almost impossible manner, from the dark mornings with fresh snow to the late, balmy evenings of lingering sunshine and occasional thunderstorms.  Summer no longer feels like some distant memory but a distinct possibility you could reach out and touch.  Nights are warmer, days are longer, and finally - finally! - little green buds are appearing on the lilac bushes and cottonwoods.  Spring comes tentatively at 6,000 ft.

This is an incredibly busy season for both Carl and me.  There's lots of dusting off, cleaning up, and getting prepared for the onslaught of summer.  My greenhouse is living up to its name, fit to bursting with beets, lettuce, carrots, and peas.  As soon as one crop's done it's time to plant another.  Good thing I have my four-footed helpers to keep me motivated.

Hey mom, if you pet me the tomatoes will grow faster

Peas! They'll be ready to go for our first farmers market in one week.

 On May 22 our favorite yellow dog had a birthday.  Bubba is now officially an old man at the age of 11, and going strong.  Here's to many more days of hiking, swimming, and holding down the couch!

All Things Green and Muddy

Happy Spring!  It's trying very, very hard to be, anyway.  Just like deciding when to take off your snow tires, gambling on when to put away the winter boots and long underwear is something of a crap shoot.  There may be two inches of snow on the ground for the drive to work, only to end up 60 degrees and sunny by the end of the day.  Between the tempestuous mood swings and working in a sauna (also known as a greenhouse), I've learned to dress in layers.  Lots and lots of layers.

The warm, moist environment of the greenhouse may be enough to cause humans to wilt but all things green are loving it.  The peas are getting taller every day, and we've already harvested savory spinach, leafy lettuce, succulent baby kale, spicy arugula, and crisp radishes.  Next week we may even plant some things outside.  Yes, I get excited about simple things like this.  But it's pretty good going to work with my dogs, listening to sand hill cranes and water fowl across the fields, and getting my hands dirty with green growing goodness.

When I'm not playing in the dirt I've started running again.  We celebrated St. Patrick's Day up in Bozeman, me running a 10k in a teeny tiny track suit, and Carl drinking beer with the dogs.  Behind every athlete there is a stellar support team.

 The trails around here are slowly emerging from the snow and ice, leaving behind plenty of muck.  The other things emerging are bears.  Really big bears.  Thankfully Carl reminded me to bring along bear spray on my first trail run of the season, and I'm so glad that he did.

 The dogs have been enjoying the warmer weather, as well.  Mojo is growing nearly as fast as the peas and her new favorite thing is sitting on anyone that will hold still for her.

In other news, I had a birthday.  The big three-oh, three whole decades on this earth.  Despite the gray hairs and stories, I still can't believe I've been around that long.  To celebrate, I added to my collection of tattoos.  This design is based on a compass from a journal written by my great-grandpa in, about a sailing trip he took in 1937 from Seattle up to Vancouver Island, retracing one of Captain Cook's voyages.  The tattoo artist cleaned it up and added a bit of his own style before applying it to my upper back.  Afterwards Carl took me out to a delicious dinner to forget about the pain and celebrate another revolution around the sun.  It's been a fantastic trip, and I can't wait to see what comes next.